Together they flew
by MarinersRevenge
Summary: "It felt like forever. It felt like all the cliched feelings people say when they meet someone who shared even a modicum of connection. Mostly it felt like she had been splayed open and her soul had cast itself out into the ether." Muggle University AU Part 1 of Tiny Star


She didn't want to be here.

She wanted to be at home, with her books and tea and the aching silence that now filled her dorm. She wanted to stay home to punish herself for allowing the relationship to detonate. She felt in a way that she was to blame for the messy end. Maybe- no, not maybe, it was a certainty- because of her stubborn nature, because of her inability to not over work herself, because her intelligence demanded that she never settle. Maybe she knew from the beginning that things would have worked out, a subconscious attempt at showing her that despite her behind the scenes pining that he will turn to her and not just see a gender less friend but a woman. She had spent much of her secondary education, pining after Ron. For her, he was her one; despite her knowing that he didn't like the other aspects of her personality besides her ability to help him keep his rugby scholarship.

She knew.

So why did she stay for so long?

That was the million dollar question and she didn't want to be thinking about it while she sat in a dingy pub. She wanted to be home.

She wanted…

She stared at her tepid drink she had been nursing since it was shoved in her hand by her friend who then left her alone by the bar. They were supposed to be seeing some no named musician who frequented the pub on Friday nights.

It's been a month, Hermione. You have to leave your dorm at some point other than to go to class.

They had gently and firmly pried the book she clutched to her chest from her and suddenly she was here. Hermione grimaced as she took a sip of her drink, she knew if she left Harry and Ginny would understand but she knew they would be disappointed in her. So, she stayed and waited.

The lights on the pub's small stage flared and the band began to walk out. The band consisted of a drummer, keyboardist, guitarist and bassist and if the clothes were any indication of the type of music they played, Hermione was certain that she would hate it. They looked grungy and ill-kept as they performed their last-minute sound check; with their ensemble of various holey jumpers and ratty shirts and tight black jeans with rips. Most of the pub had moved to the front closer to the stage and Hermione remained seated by the bar wishing she hadn't come.

From the dark side of the stage, a man steps up. He had incredibly light blonde hair that glinted silver in the stages hot lights, it clashed horribly with his pale skin Hermione thought. He looked washed out, it reminded Hermione of thin paper set against a back lit glass. Sighing, Hermione turned away from the scene to order another drink that wasn't made of melted ice when the band started to play.

It sounded at first of just various sounds that made little sense when the quiet driving sound of the keyboard faded in through the noise and then he began to sing. Hermione barely heard the words to his song but it wasn't the words that were important.

His voice made Hermione feel as if she were floating.

It was soft and melodic and she felt that it was unfair that such a voice could come from such a cold looking man. He leaned his forehead against the microphone, his eyes still closed the music swirling around him, as if the burden of his words and his voice were too much from him to bear alone.

The song was coming to the end and the singer opened his eyes to survey the crowd as he sang his last refrain. The color of his eyes was the color of a grey and rolling sea, turbulent and unyielding and Hermione felt caught in their pull as they settled on to her.

It felt like forever.

It felt like all the cliched feelings people say when they meet someone who shared even a modicum of connection.

Mostly it felt like she had been splayed open and her soul had cast itself out into the ether.

She doesn't remember the rest of the show but when her friends bound up asking if she enjoyed it she nodded her head, her decision made.

She'd be back.

She comes every Friday they play when she can help it for the next month. Hermione learns from her subtle questioning that the singers name is Draco. How pretentious she had said but secretly she thought that it suited him.

It was Friday again and the band had just finished playing. Hermione was preparing to leave when a body slide into the seat beside her. Looking to her left, her breath hitched and her hand paused in the middle of handing it to the bartender to pay for her tab.

She knew she was staring inelegantly when Draco turned his head and gave her a knowing look smirking. Shaking herself out of her reverie and flushing in embarrassment, she finished her transaction and was about to maybe run when he spoke.

"I've seen you before. You've been here the last couple of shows."

And all Hermione can do is stammer out that she just happens to enjoy coming to this pub and it just so happens that she comes out when they play. Which is a lie, she looks forward to the end of the week; planning her schedule around the event with as much enthusiasm as she does getting a new book, which is a great deal. And he looks like he knows it's a lie but is going along with it.

She is grateful.

Hermione makes it through the short conversation, which is feat, she is terrible at talking to new people. Somehow, she also ends up with his number which he had slid across the bar to her before sauntering away. She scowls at his retreating form and grasps the napkin vowing that she will never contact him out of spite.

She does, though, a few days later and surprisingly gets a quick response.

Over the next few weeks she finds out a bit more about him.

He is funny in a biting and dry sort of way and it sometimes comes off as being mean at other people's expense but she finds that she likes the way he makes her laugh. He's intelligent as well, she honestly wasn't expecting it. On a particularly rough day, she had texted him complaining about her classmates who don't understand basic literary themes and reading comprehension and- how did they even make it this far- he didn't tune her out like her ex often did. In fact, they had spent the next few hours rapidly debating meanings and context on various subjects until her phone had notified her that it needed a break and they stopped for the night.

It turns out from later conversations that he is studying at her university as well, and knows those students and that professor. And she feels a camaraderie in another person who shares her disdain for time wasters and stupid questions.

They had begun to meet outside of the pub on week days during breaks in their courses at the coffee shop on campus. It's not dates her mind tells her, just the meeting of two minds but she can't help the slow blossoming of excitement when he asks her to meet with him for the first time.

She likes the way that he looks at her, like she's the only person in the room, like she's the most interesting person he's ever met.

She likes it.

She doesn't know when things changed, exactly looking back. It had been about 7 months since they had become friends and over that time they had started to move slowly over the line of friendship.

One night after the show, after they had been ushered out and the pub had long closed, they stood side by side. They had lulled into a comfortable silence, their breath intermingling in the cold night air. Hermione felt a drop of something cold on her cheek and then her nose. Holding out her gloved hand she saw specks out white landing and drifting lazily down around them.

The moment felt surreal almost. Here she was standing next to this man who had made her feel content and relaxed and happy. In the snow, almost like she was the main character in a love novel. They often made fun of the ridiculous story lines and read random passages to each other dramatically before dissolving into laughter. It was one of the reasons why the university librarian always scowled at them when they would meet there. Hermione turned to her companion intending to make a joke when the words die in her throat.

Draco was staring at her, his grey eyes glinting in the light of the street lamp and Hermione felt the same pull she felt every time since the first night she heard him sing. Slowly his hand moved up and cupped her face, gently, as if testing if she was real and Hermione's lips parted slightly at the action.

She didn't know how long they had been stuck in this state but then he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was tentative at first just a slight pressure as if he was afraid she'd disappear. He pulled back slightly to look at her again before his lips descended back and he moved his hand from her cheek to her hair and slide his arm around her waist pulling her closer.

Hermione felt alive.

If he was fire, then she was wood and she would gladly burn to nothing if only to keep him trapped against her.

It was agony and passion and hunger and euphoria and everything that she had ever wanted rolled into one. Hermione had wrapped her arms around his neck and when he nipped her lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. Her gasp at the action allowed him to deepen the kiss making her body arched up into his. She wanted to be closer, she wanted to be wrapped in his embrace entirely. Hermione's entire body was trembling, not from the cold but the searing heat that was passing through her and then it over. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers hugging her close. He released a shaky breath that matched her own and they stayed there in each other's embrace under the snow.

She felt good.

She felt more than good.

But as her heart slowed and her thoughts started to unstick she began to realize the depth of the feelings she felt for this man. What she felt for her ex was a drop in the bucket- no, a drop in the metaphoric oceans of time- compared to what she felt for Draco. It had crept up on her unexpectedly and Hermione was not prepared.

She did the first thing that came to mind.

She ran.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since they had kissed

Two weeks since Hermione had run away and she was currently hiding in the library.

Hermione let her head fall face first onto her book in exasperation. How was she going to explain why she ran away? She didn't have a reason for why she ran. Well, she did but her pride and embarrassment and anxiety warred with each other and she finally just settled on inaction. Draco hadn't contacted her for two weeks after she left and Hermione hoped it was because he was waiting for her to contact him.

 _Or maybe_ , her mind supplied, _he got feed up waiting around for you and has moved on._

Turning her head to the side, she stared despondently at nothing. She was so lost in her thoughts, that she didn't hear another approach until the chair across from her was pulled out. Looking up, Hermione is greeted by Draco looking at her. His face was blank and she didn't know if that was good or bad.

Definitely bad, she thought.

She felt like running again but she knew that probably wasn't ideal. Something told her that if she ran again, he wouldn't follow or seek her out. She didn't want that to happen. For the first time, she had made a connection with someone who understood her.

She had called Ginny immediately after the kiss from the safety of her dorm, relaying the thoughts and feelings that floated through her. After she had finished, Ginny laughed at her for what seemed like an hour before declaring that she always knew Hermione liked him.

You need to tell him how you feel. It's ok if you're afraid. Chances are so is he.

Nervously picking at the edges of her text book, Hermione bit her lip and glanced down at her hands.

"Hi."

Draco raised an eye brow at her and Hermione swallowed hard before speaking again.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry that I ran away."

"Why did you?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders slightly, gathering her thoughts. She was going to tell him because he deserved to know why she ran.

"…I ran because I was afraid," Hermione looks up at him then, his brows are scrunched in confusion. She looks down at her hands again. She wouldn't be able to get the rest of this out if she looked at him. Understanding passes through them and she is grateful that he is letting her get this out.

"I was afraid of what I felt for you. I don't know when it had started. Maybe the first night I heard you sing? Maybe the many late-night messages or gestures or meetings we have had over the last 7 months? I don't know exactly when my feelings for you started to change from friendship to something more. So, I ran. Honestly that's probably not the best response when a guy kisses you."

At that he snorts and Hermione huffs out a laugh before continuing.

Drawing in a shaky breath Hermione looks at him, "I think- no, I know that I do- I love you. My heart and my soul are no longer mine because you have them."

There she's said it and she waits for judgement, for condemnation. For him to say that he is ceasing all contact with her or worse laugh. They fall into an uneasy silence and Hermione is sure that she'd cocked it all up when he walks around the table and wraps his hand around hers.

"Silly girl," Draco sighs.

At that Hermione begins to pull away because even if she expected this it still feels like her heart is turning into ashes but he tightens his hold and pulls her into his arms. Hermione's eyes fill with tears and she wants to push him away but can't seem to muster the energy to care.

Why should she? Draco just stomped on her heart. Before the tears start to fall in earnest, Draco whispers to her.

"Look at me, love. You have my heart and soul because I love you too."

At this, Hermione's tears fall in earnest. She pulls back and looks at him.

"You love me?"

Draco gently wipes the tears from her cheeks.

"Yes, I love you. The night I kissed you, there you were standing in the golden light of the street lamp with snow in your hair, you looked so beautiful, so carefree and I knew it then. I knew that there was no use denying my feelings anymore. I didn't want to pretend that what I felt wasn't real. You make me feel like I am fucking flying."

Draco pressed his lips to Hermione's gently and together they flew.


End file.
